


Five Weeks

by CodenameMeretricious



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, But finally together, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Med student Otabek, Retirement, Tattooed Otabek, bottom yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 19:09:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodenameMeretricious/pseuds/CodenameMeretricious
Summary: “I love you,” Otabek breathed, one hand wrapped around Yuri’s waist and the other tangled in his hair.“As you should,” Yuri replied, ducking his head to smooth his tongue down Otabek’s throat and to the hollow at the base of his neck.It's been five weeks since they've seen each other, but Otabek is finally home.





	Five Weeks

Yuri was busy ignoring the advice that Victor and Katsudon were throwing to him when Otabek walked in. He was wearing the jacket, the leather one he’d had on when he’d rescued Yuri from the pack of fangirls four years ago. _That_ jacket that was buttery soft and warm and always smelled like Otabek.

“Yurio, are you even listening?” Victor called from across the rink.

But Yuri was very clearly _not_ listening as he quickly skated over to the edge of the rink, practically throwing himself over the barricade to reach Otabek.

“Five fucking weeks,” he hissed as his arms wrapped around Otabek’s neck.

There was a huff of laughter against his hair and Otabek’s arms were reaching for as much of him as he could over the barricade. “Sorry.”

“Do you know how fucking boring St. Petersburg is without you?” He leaned back just far enough to press his lips to Otabek’s. He missed him, obviously, but he wasn’t about to pull a full-on PDA session like Victor and Yuuri. This was a professional training rink after all.

Otabek laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Yuri’s cheek before rubbing his face into Yuri’s neck, breathing deeply though he would probably only pick up the scent of chilled skin and drying sweat. “Not as boring as Almaty.”

“That’s true,” Yuri agreed. He reluctantly pulled back from the hug, sliding his hands down Otabek’s arms until they could interlock their fingers, dark skin and black gloves meeting over the faded blue paint.

“I missed you,” Otabek sighed.

Yuri felt his stomach drop as he looked at Otabek’s face. They’d barely seen each other since Otabek’s official retirement. Without the promise of meeting up at a competition, Yuri had snuck out of the rink and to the airport as often as he could, though he knew Katsudon and Victor would have given him a ride and a box of condoms so long as he was off in the ‘pursuit of true love.’

“I know,” he said, the words barely a whisper. The warm brown of Otabek’s eyes held him there, unblinking.

The scratch of skates made him huff, reluctantly dropping his eyes as he turned to meet Mila or Victor or whoever the hell had made their unwelcome way over. Instead, Yuuri stood a few feet away, a soft smile on his face.

“Otabek, good to see you,” he said. “Congrats on getting into med school.”

Otabek nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

“See, Beka’s actually going to get a real job,” Yuri said, unable to stop himself. “Saving the world and stuff.”

“Pediatric medicine is hardly saving the world,” Otabek replied, though Yuri could hear the hint of embarrassment and pride in his voice.

“You’d be surprised,” Katsudon replied.

“Otabek!” Victor chirped, skating toward them with his usual shit-eating grin. He used Katsudon rather than his toe pick to stop, the Japanese man’s body stuttering forward a few inches as Victor wrapped his arms around him. “So good to see you!”

“Likewise,” Otabek replied.

“Oi,” Yuri said squeezing Otabek’s hands before forcing himself to pull away. “The faster we finish practice the faster I can get away from you two.”

“Saccharinely sweet as always,” Victor said, spinning around his husband before following Yuri toward the center of the ice.

It was hard to focus knowing Beka was _right there_ and yet he couldn’t really touch him. His eyes kept sliding to the side of the rink, watching as Otabek watched back, a small grin on his face. Yuri knew he missed the ice, missed wearing the gold he’d finally snatched from Yuri’s own hands at his last Grand Prix. But still, there was a sense of relief, of a rope once wrapped around his neck and now gone. The Hero of Kazakhstan was finally free and Yuri hadn’t seen him smile so much in the entire time they’d known each other.

“Little hard to land a quad loop when you’re looking in the opposite direction,” Victor chided as Yuri’s hand hit the ice once again.

He shot a glare at the older man. Despite the fact that Victor was technically his coach now which meant Katsudon was also his coach, he still had every intention of giving the older man a run for his money, just as he knew Victor had done to Yakov.

“I’m bored,” he replied in Russian. Victor liked using English at the rink so Katsudon wouldn’t feel left out. Little did Victor know that Yuri, because he was such a nice person, had been helping Katsudon with his Russian for years.

“He likes teasing you,” the Japanese Yuri now said in Russian, skating to his side as Victor got distracted by one of the new kids. “Go over your step sequence then get out of here.”

Yuri couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face as he nodded, quickly blasting through the steps before practically throwing himself off the ice. He heard Victor complain and Katsudon say something to him quietly but he didn’t really care. Instead, he grabbed Otabek’s hand and dragged him to the unoccupied locker room, pinning him against the wall of dark blue lockers with every intention of kissing him senseless.

Otabek seemed ready for the tongue suddenly probing into his mouth. Yuri could feel the soft grin, unable to help melting into Otabek’s chest when callused fingers wound their way into his hair. It was longer now, not nearly as long as Victor’s had been, but long enough that it framed their faces when Yuri hovered over Otabek in the dark.

“Yura,” Otabek breathed, pulling his mouth away to gasp for air. Yuri dropped his lips to Otabek’s jaw, licking and kissing back to his ear and wrapping his tongue around the piercing there. Otabek groaned, fingers digging into Yuri’s scalp.

“Beka,” Yuri breathed back. He’d only grown about four inches taller than Otabek, but he still wore his skates and the added height made for an excellent angle as he dragged his nose back up Otabek’s jaw, pressing his lips down to Otabek’s.

“Think we can make it home?” Otabek said, the words barely escaping before he pulled Yuri’s bottom lip into his mouth, biting down just enough to sting before soothing the mark with his tongue.

“Mmmm,” Yuri hummed, unable to make a commitment right then. He was already straining against his practice tights, the weeks of Skype calls and separation hadn’t been nearly enough and he wanted Beka as close as humanly possible _now._

However, Otabek, forever the voice of reason and logic, dropped his hands down to Yuri’s shoulders, firmly pushing him away. Yuri gasped at the loss of heat and contact, pouting down at the liquid brown eyes and kiss-bruised mouth. “We really should.”

“Don’t wanna,” Yuri said, dropping his hands to Otabek’s waist. He wrapped his fingers through his belt loops, pulling the man’s hips forward so they were flush against each other. Both of them moaned.

“Not as sexy if Victor and Yuuri walk in,” Otabek reminded him.

Well, that was true. Yuri sighed and dropped his hands. “Buzzkill.”

“Trust me, Yura, practice doesn’t run long enough to cover us for all the things I’ve been dying to do to you.”

It took Yuri less than ten minutes to shower, change, and toss all his shit into a bag. Otabek laughed as Yuri grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the rink and into the rather mild summer day.

He had finally moved out of Lilia’s, though he spent enough time at Victor and Katsudon’s place that he’d barely unpacked his own little apartment. Thankfully though, it was only a ten-minute walk from the rink and they were blessedly, truly, _alone_ for the first time in what felt like years.

“God, I missed you,” Yuri said, pressing his lips once more to Otabek’s the second they were through the door.

“Then what are you still doing in these clothes?” Otabek asked.

Without another word, Yuri pulled the shirt over his head, shucking off Otabek’s jacket and beginning on the button down, all while kissing every part of Otabek he could reach.

“Easy, Tiger,” Otabek laughed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Never again,” Yuri hissed, yanking the shirt from Otabek’s shoulders before reaching down to pull off his shoes.

“Agreed,” Otabek sighed, pulling off his own boots before grabbing Yuri back to him, walking them backwards into the bedroom. He hit the bed with a sigh, pulling Yuri on top of him.

Yuri paused for a moment, lifting himself up a fraction so that he could look down at Otabek. The last skating season had been a blur of practice, scheduling, flying, and helping Otabek with his medical school applications. Yuri hadn’t thought at all about what he would do once his body finally gave out and he could no longer skate professionally, but Otabek seemed at ease with the transition. He still spent time on the ice, still did the same five-mile runs first thing in the morning and the same gym sessions with Yuri in the afternoon. But he was different now, much happier, much…smiley-er.

Perhaps it was the fact that, after years of dancing around each other, they’d finally both admitted that they were madly in love with the other and immediately, messily, made love on the living room floor of Otabek’s Almaty apartment nearly twelve months prior. And perhaps it was that Otabek had always been waiting for the next task, the next devotion. He loved skating, Yuri knew, but he didn’t _need_ it. Not like Yuri and Victor and Katsudon.

“Are you happy?” Yuri suddenly asked, caressing Otabek’s face with one hand while he slowly settled himself down, pressing them together. Otabek’s chest was still firm, the breadth still both shocking and comforting to Yuri.

“Of course,” Otabek replied immediately. He reached up, running a hand through Yuri’s hair so that it fell to one side.

“And you still want to live with me?”

“I’m sorry, were we not about to settle into _our_ new apartment by fucking each other senseless on _our_ new bed?”

Yuri grinned, tilting Otabek’s chin to press their lips together. “Absolutely,” he said, dropping his hips down, rubbing them together through the dark fabric of their jeans and sweatpants. “But no more pants,” he said.

He pushed himself up, crawling backwards to pull the dark jeans from Otabek’s (perfect) legs. His lover watched, lifting his hips to help as Yuri pulled jeans and boxers down in one move, tossing the garments to the floor as he immediately pressed his face into Otabek’s hip, inhaling deeply.

Otabek groaned, his cock already hardening and sitting heavily on his belly. Yuri pressed his face into the sensitive skin at the junction of Otabek’s hip and thigh, nuzzling into the dark hair there.

“Yura,” Otabek breathed.

Yuri grinned, nipping at the jutting hipbone before dragging his mouth down, pressing a kiss to each inch of Otabek’s glorious thighs. Yuri sat up a little, staring at Otabek as he lifted his leg up behind the knee, paying particular attention to the clearly formed muscles there, swiping his tongue over the tan skin and dark hair, mouthing at the underside of a knee.

“Yura,” Otabek moaned again, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides with the need to touch.

But Yuri simply grinned, pressed a kiss to the top of his thigh, and switching to the other leg, giving it just as much attention before slowly, so slowly he was surprised Otabek didn’t grab and drag him back up, moving back to press a deep kiss to Otabek’s mouth.

Otabek hummed, tongue swiping across Yuri’s lips until his own mouth opened to let him in. It was all heat and dance and perfection and Yuri felt himself melting, the strain from practice already forgotten, the bleeding blisters and bruises on his feet no longer important.

“I love you,” Otabek breathed, one hand wrapped around Yuri’s waist and the other tangled in his hair.

“As you should,” Yuri replied, ducking his head to smooth his tongue down Otabek’s throat and to the hollow at the base of his neck.

Otabek groaned, his cock twitching as Yuri slowly made his way back down Otabek’s chest. He kissed the tattoo under his left peck, laving his tongue across the black ink before flicking it upward to catch at the dark nipple, Otabek sucking in a breath.

He quickly moved to the other side, his own hardness forgotten in his quest to taste every inch of Otabek’s body in their weeks of absence from each other. He’d craved the smell, the taste, the warmth of that hard body beneath his, the rough hands tangled in his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp just as they were now.

Yuri sunk lower, dragging his tongue down the slight hollow in the center of the still very prominent six-pack of Otabek’s stomach. Otabek twitched, the skin there slightly ticklish, but Yuri could feel him trembling, trying to hold still, waiting for those lips and that tongue to sink even lower.

Yuri did so, settling himself between Otabek’s thighs and sending a wicked grin up toward the man, meeting the wide brown eyes as he dragged his tongue up the underside of Otabek’s cock, wrapping his lips around the head.

Otabek gave a full body groan, throwing one hand over his eyes for a moment. He mumbled something in Kazakh, legs twitching around Yuri as the Russian grinned, sinking his lips lower around Otabek, his tongue twisting around that glorious shaft and humming to himself as he watched Otabek come undone.

“Fuck, Yura,” he said, the hand still in Yuri’s hair wrapping tighter, almost to the point of pain. Yuri grinned, sinking even lower as he breathed through his nose, bobbing up and down as he felt Otabek fully harden in his mouth.

“That’s the idea,” he said, pulling off to kiss the head. A trail of pre-come dripped from his lips and Otabek groaned once again.

“Keep that up and I won’t last another minute,” Otabek whined, pulling at Yuri’s shoulder to guide him back up. He kissed him again, his tongue sweeping up the bitter saltiness of his own come, almost wiping Yuri’s mouth clean. “Off,” he said then, tugging at the sweatpants Yuri was still wearing.

Yuri complied quickly, dropping to Otabek’s side to kick off the offending pants and reach into the nightstand, tossing a small bottle of lube to Otabek as he ran a hand over that beautiful chest, pressing a kiss to the broad black lines tattooed across Otabek’s bicep.

“That’s better,” Otabek sighed, automatically reaching to Yuri’s own growing hardness, rough fingers wrapping ever so gently around Yuri’s length.

Yuri let out a hiss, already aching. He could feel Otabek’s eyes on him and raised his own, meeting the questioning glance.“I want you inside me,” he said quickly.

Otabek nodded, pulling himself up so that he was looking down at Yuri. He trailed a hand down Yuri’s torso, fingertips stroking along a thigh down to the knee and back up.

“Sooner rather than later.”

Otabek laughed but bent down, pressing a kiss to the middle of Yuri’s chest. The warmth from the contact seemed to spread, dripping down Yuri’s stomach, meeting the heat already fanning out from his cock, and swimming along his veins.

Yuri heard the soft click of the bottle being opened, sighing when, moments later, a warm wet fingertip reached beneath him, dragging softly along his balls before pressing into his ass, the tight ring of muscle there clenching before softening as Otabek circled his entrance, waiting until Yuri gave a sigh before pressing one finger inside.

It had been a while, despite Yuri doing his best to use his own fingers in Otabek’s absence. The angle was hard to reach and he was usually too impatient to try much longer than a minute or two. But this was bliss. He felt his spine sinking into the bed beneath him as Otabek kissed him, slowly opening him with his fingers and tongue.

“Beka,” Yuri moaned when a second finger began to join the first. He winced slightly at the stretch and Otabek paused, kissing his temple as Yuri rolled his hips, adjusting the spread of his thighs to better let Otabek in. Slowly, the pain faded into need and he whined at Otabek to move again, savoring the feeling as two fingers sunk into him, stretching him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Otabek murmured against his temple. Yuri turned his head to look at him, Otabek looking down to where his own body disappeared inside Yuri’s. He’d been unsure at first when Yuri had suggested it, hadn’t wanted to hurt him or interrupt Yuri’s training, despite the fact that Otabek had quite happily bottomed for the past three weeks. Each time Yuri whined for it though, Otabek eagerly complied, a look of disbelief and love blossoming across his face each time that he was allowed to covet Yuri completely.

“One more,” Yuri said, clenching down on the two fingers already working inside him. He was hard, leaking onto his belly and done waiting for Otabek.

Otabek complied, slipping one last finger alongside the other two, slowly twisting his fingers so they sank deeper, one brushing against Yuri’s prostate and causing him to jump almost enough to cause Otabek’s fingers to slip out. Otabek kept kissing him, working silently as his body made up for the five-week distance. They weren’t chatty by nature and they didn’t need to say anything now. Yuri simply hummed and sighed as Otabek worked him open, pressing kisses to his hair and his temple, whispering occasionally in a language that Yuri didn’t need to understand.

“I want you,” Yuri said eventually, the burn completely turned to bliss. But it wasn’t enough and he writhed against the bed.

Otabek nodded again and reached for the bottle of lube but Yuri grabbed his wrist before he could, flipping them over so that Otabek was on his back, smiling as Yuri straddled him, picking up the lube and pouring some onto his fingers, warming it up in his hands before reaching back to wrap his fingers around Otabek’s length. Otabek hissed at the contact, his cock springing back to life after being neglected.

Yuri stroked him to full hardness before settling on his knees, lifting himself up before reaching back to guide Otabek to his entrance. Otabek wrapped his hands around Yuri’s hips, steadying him as his slick head pressed against Yuri, who hovered for a moment before slowly sinking down. He let out a groan, his head falling back as he slowly, ever so slowly, sank down, taking Otabek inside him until he was fully seated. Otabek lifted his legs, feet on the mattress and knees bent. The angle shifted them slightly but allowed Yuri to sink that much deeper and he had to close his eyes against how fucking perfect it was. He sucked in a breath through his nose.

“Beautiful,” Otabek said again, one had rising up to drag his nails across Yuri’s nipples and down his chest.

Yuri swallowed, pulling himself back as he adjusted to the stretch and fullness and absolute perfection of having Otabek inside him. He was thicker than three fingers but the skin was so soft and warm and wonderful that Yuri was quickly rising up, lifting himself a few inches before dropping back down. He put his hands on Otabek’s chest, using him to leverage himself that much further, lifting almost the entire way before dropping back down.

They quickly fell into a rhythm, both urged on by the groans and quick breaths of the other. Each time Yuri dropped down, Otabek thrust his hips up to meet him, hitting his prostate almost every time and making Yuri’s vision blur at the edges, white stars dancing across his eyes.

“Beka,” he almost sobbed, dropping his head to steal a kiss as Otabek pounded up into him, the shift switching the angle just enough that Yuri almost blacked out from the sensation, barley aware that Otabek had wrapped one hand around his cock, trying to match the rhythm as they both careened toward release.

“Yura, come on,” Otabek whispered against Yuri’s lips. His blonde hair had fallen around his face, draping around them both like a curtain. Otabek looked up at him, his brown eyes shining and pupils blown wide. “Come for me, love,” he said.

Yuri slammed his eyes closed, rocking back even harder, fingers digging into Otabek’s chest as he angled them just so.

Yuri loved skating, felt completely alive on the ice and thought he’d never feel at home anywhere else.

That was until he’d discovered the joy of being absolutely and completely surrounded by Otabek Altin.

The stars in his vision exploded across his eyelids, his entire body shaking as Otabek pumped into him twice more before reaching his own climax, warmth and wet spreading inside Yuri which only set him off even higher. He could feel his own release still pouring across Otabek’s fingers, that perfect hand pulling every last sensation from him as bliss wrapped over his entire body, blanketing him in something so pure he couldn’t put a name on it other than to think of Otabek’s.

He eventually opened his eyes, body trembling as he dropped his forehead to Otabek’s. They were both breathing hard, chests and bellies brushing as their lungs reached for oxygen.

“Fuck,” Yuri gasped, gently raising himself until Otabek’s cock slipped out, a rush of warm cum followed and Yuri moaned again before dropping to Otabek’s side.

“I think that was a record,” Otabek said, barely able to catch his breath.

Yuri chuckled, curling into a ball as the tension bled out of him, his chest letting go of the ache from the last Otabek-less month. This was what he always wanted to come home to, this was what made all those hours away and miles travelled worth it in the end.

They laid there together for a moment, both breathing as their trembling ceased and the very last remnants of their orgasms washed over them. After a few minutes Otabek groaned, rolling up and off the bed. He stood and strode to the bathroom. Yuri heard the sound of the shower running and moments later Otabek was back at his side, running a hand through his hair and down his cheek.

“Shower,” Otabek said.

Yuri grumbled and buried his head into his pillow. He really didn’t want to move at the moment.

“I’m pretty sure you got cum in your hair and you really don’t want that to dry,” Otabek laughed.

Well, that was true. Yuri sighed but unfolded himself, linking his fingers with Otabek’s as he was dragged toward the shower, steam pouring out already. They paused at the shower door, Otabek reaching in to test the temperature and Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek’s middle, resting his head against his shoulder blade and pressing a small kiss there.

“I love you,” he sighed. They didn’t use the words often, though that didn’t mean they were any less intended. Otabek hummed, the sensation reverberating through Yuri’s cheek.

“Love you too, Yura,” he said. “As I very well should.”

 


End file.
